


Happy Christmas

by edelau



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AUTHOR: Martila, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8206084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edelau/pseuds/edelau
Summary: Harry's missing someone on Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A translation of [Feliz Navidad](http://www.slasheaven.com/viewstory.php?sid=41496) by [Martila](http://www.slasheaven.com/viewuser.php?uid=27140).
> 
> Work based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No offense is meant by this.
> 
> Thank you to [capitu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitu/pseuds/capitu), [asnq8](http://asnq8.livejournal.com/profile) & [Sevfan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevfan/pseuds/Sevfan) for the proofreading. Any mistakes still there are mine.

Every year at Christmas, dinner was the hardest thing to do for Harry. It’s hard to try and please everybody.

With his life it happens the same thing as with dinner. Exactly the same.

He puts a lot of effort into dinner, because he cares for every single one of his guests deeply. Mr and Mrs Weasley are like the parents he never knew, and their children are like the siblings he never had. And Hermione, she’s all of this in one. The last thing in the world he wants is to hurt them.

He flicks his wand and magic swirls around him. The crockery, the cutlery and the linens also dancing around as he counts his guests with his fingers, which are easily over ten.

He sighs and leans over the wooden counter. He has this feeling inside his chest, like a small pinch that doesn't let him breathe. He misses him, and he will all through the holidays he’ll spend without him.

He’s the gift he doesn't have, the one that he craves for. More than the toys that never came or the affection he never felt from his blood relations. He needs him by his side so much it hurts.

Hermione looks at him curiously from the kitchen door, the one she can barely get through thanks to her seven months pregnancy belly. She smiles at him and kisses him on the cheek. He quickly changes his expression to something less glum, as he doesn’t want to seem sad when it’s cheer all around him.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asks for the umpteenth time.

“No need. Just sit or else that kid is going to be born more nervous than a Cornish pixie.”

She rests one hand on her swollen belly and snorts. “Don’t even joke about it. I mean it though, I need to do something to feel useful.”

Harry knows there’s no reasoning with her and finally gives her the napkins to arrange. At least she seems somewhat mollified.

Once he’s left alone again, his thoughts return to him. They always do.

He still remembers his goodbye kisses, his soft hand on the back of his neck, as his tongue stroked Harry’s.

His words, his, “ _Think about me, okay?_ ” (How could he not?) “ _I don't want to spend Christmas without you._ ” (Who wouldn't want to be with him?) His, “ _I want you to be the first person I kiss on New Year’s Eve._ ” (Who wouldn't want such a pleasure?)

But most of all, he misses his eyes. The intense look in his eyes when he really wants something, the one he only gives to Harry, the one that says so much more than words in any language, the one that doesn’t need translations, the one that’s filled with feelings.

Everything feels empty when he’s not there. His house, his bed, his mornings, his bathroom, his life... there’s a hole larger than even himself that he fills just by being there. And every day it gets bigger.

Maybe it’s only the holidays that brings up these feelings. Or maybe he misses him so badly his whole body craves for him.

Or maybe he just thinks it’s not fair everybody can hug and kiss the person they love, but him.

By five o’clock his house is bursting with people. Everybody is trying to help, though all he wants is for them to sit so he can start serving dinner properly.

The conversation is pleasant. The jokes, the tales, the laughter of the children... It feels like family, or it would if he wasn’t missing someone else.

What he wishes the most is that he could be there, could be one of them.

The meal goes without a hitch, if he doesn’t count the stains, the wine and Firewhisky spills or Ron and George attempts to trick someone into one of their pranks; mostly harmless, to his relief.

Once the dinner is finished, everybody fusses over finding their presents. The children run all over, opening boxes, laughing and squealing with joy and excitement. The parents smile, pretending surprise at the gifts under the tree that they’ve left.

When the little ones have been put to bed, it’s time for the grown-ups to open their gifts. They all gather on the sofas and armchairs around the fireplace and give each other their presents.

There are unique ones, a Weasley family wall clock for Hermione and Ron and their soon expanding family. There are also fancy quills for Percy, a dragon hide jacket for Bill, a racing broom for Charlie and a perfume brought from France for Angelina.

Everybody receives their gifts with enthusiasm. They kiss and hug with that family warmth Harry only knew with the people around him. He smiles wistfully, only himself knowing why.

Suddenly he realises he’s the only one left without a present. And he does so because everybody is looking at him with a mischievous smile, not because he forgot something.

“What is it?” he asks, feeling their eyes on him.

“Your gift, Harry,” Hermione says, looking at him meaningfully. “It’s not here. It didn’t fit in the stocking, so I had to leave it at home until the right moment.”

He laughs. He doesn’t think they can surprise him any more than last Christmas, when they gave him Sirius’ fixed up bike.

“Let’s see. What is it? Can I guess?”

“You can try, Harry,” says Molly, her smile so wide you can hardly see her eyes. “But I don’t think you’ll ever guess. It was very hard to find.”

“You shouldn’t have gone through so much trouble.”

“Close your eyes,” George and Charlie ask him standing behind him.

Together they blindfold his eyes, though in truth, he could see very little after taking off his glasses.

Once everything is black before his eyes, he anxiously waits among their whispers and mutterings. He smiles nervously and taps his fingers on his leg to calm down.

“Now!” says Hermione, sounding even more frantic, if that’s possible.

Nothing could have prepared him for that.

His breath catches in his chest. He looks around, everybody watching him expectantly.

In front of him is the object of his desires.

“But...?” he manages to ask between short breaths.

Ron moves forward. Hermione grips his arm and watches him excitedly.

“We knew you only wanted one thing for Christmas,” Ron says, patting his back. “And even though it wasn’t easy, it’s something we all wanted to give you. We don’t want you to worry anymore. You’ve given us so much, it’s time you get what you deserve.”

Harry takes them both into his arms. Hermione cries into his shoulder, saying it’s just the hormones, she’s so happy.

Without saying any more, she looks at her friend with bright eyes and prompts him to get his gift. “Go on.”

And with that, he runs into his arms.

He runs to Draco, waiting in front of the fireplace, standing tall, with his long, dark coat, almost as moved as Harry (and that’s saying something, being a Malfoy).

He hugs him so hard, he feels his ribs nearly crack, but most of all, he feels a warmth soaking his whole body, the one only Draco can give him.

Arthur clears his throat and they pull aside.

“Harry, I know you didn’t want to tell us, because it would be difficult for us to take. I understand you might have thought we wouldn’t accept it. But you should have told us. Anything that makes you happy is good with us.”

“It’s true, mate,” Charlie adds. “Maybe at first, when they told me all about this, I was a little... well, you understand. But it’s your life, and we want you in ours, no matter who comes with you.”

“But... How...?” Harry asks again.

“Draco came to see me,” Hermione says, holding Ron closer still. “He told me that the only thing he wanted was for you to be happy and have the Christmas you wanted. And what a coincidence! It’s the same thing we all wanted.”

Harry looks back at Draco, who smiles and shrugs looking a little guilty.

Later still, while everybody celebrates the longest night of the year with the people they love the most, Harry moves closer to the Slytherin.

“You’re a sneaky one,” Harry says, low enough so no one else can hear.

“What can I say? Although my first idea was completely different.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, frowning.

“Yes, but I needed to give you this present, or else it would have been impossible.”

“And do I have to wait until next Christmas?”

“I hope not. I just needed this,” he says, looking around, acknowledging their acceptance.

“And what is it?”

“I want you to move in with me, Harry.”

The Gryffindor thinks it’s too much excitement for one night. Harry looks into Draco’s eyes and feels they are a mirror, not because of the colour, but because they show exactly what he knows is in his.

And because sometimes you don’t need any words, he reaches for Draco and kisses him, hoping he’ll take it as a yes. _Yes, Draco, yes. Of course. A thousand times yes._

The End


End file.
